Touching Magic
by Yuval25
Summary: Johnny tells his daughter about a strange phone call from his youth, and what it lead to. "They questioned me for a while about dying and eating..." Have you ever wondered what happens when a muggle comes in contact with the wizarding world? Please R&R! A collection of unrelated stories about such occurrences.
1. Touching Magic

_Just a little something I scribbled on a piece of paper and then typed into my laptop. I hope you would enjoy it! I'm leaving it as 'in progress' because it might be the first of many "Silly Things I Write When I'm Bored Series" short stories. Just in case. Please tell me what you think! I really appreciate feedback, and I appreciate constructive criticism even more. Apologies for any grammer mistakes or tenses that are mixed up. Do enjoy :)_

Summary:** _Johnny tells his daughter about a strange phone call from his youth, and what it lead to. "They questioned me for a while about dying and eating..."_**

**Touching Magic**

Johnny Skirts was a normal boy. An average student. He had a girlfriend with which he has been going out with on and off for about a year now, a younger sister who was currently freaking out about the Y2K bug, which was apparently somehow going to destroy the world as they knew it and make them all go back to middle ages where they would have to use torches and horses to get everywhere. His parents were normal and had ordinary jobs. Not much of an excitement. So when he tried to call his girlfriend and had the Special Forces turn up at his house for it, it was not very hard to recall years later at age fifty.

"So, I called Gwen, your mother," he told his daughter thirty odd years later, "On the phone, you know, because we didn't have those smart devices you use today," he gave her a smile. She was nearing her twenty fifth birthday and was familiar with all of the new gadgets like most of her generation.

"Yeah, she told me you got arrested," she laughed while she made their tea.

"I dialed the wrong number, and in hindsight I really should have checked. The voice that answered was so alike your mother, though, so I couldn't tell." He chuckled, remembering. "The girl on the phone said 'Who is this?' and I answered 'You know who, silly,' and she just started yelling out swear words."

His daughter frowned through her laughter, something he had thought to be impossible. "Why would she yell?" she asked curiously.

Johnny hummed in thought. "I have no idea. I did hear her tell someone on the other side to call the Oras, or something along those lines. It was a very strange incident." He held his chin, trying to remember the exact words. "She said 'Stanley! Stanley, you bastard, he's back! You know who's back!' and I told her 'I never left, precious,' and that was when she really started screaming," he said in bemusement.

"So when did you realize it wasn't mom you were harassing?" She came to sit beside him on the couch, serving him his cup of tea and picking up her own, blowing on it softly to cool it.

He took a sip of the scalding sweetness and answered seriously, "When the coppers knocked on my door. Your grandmother wasn't pleased. They searched my room and questioned me for a while about dying and eating and snakes and I told them I didn't know anything, and then they just left."

"Just like that?" his daughter exclaimed.

"Just like that. No report, no explanation, nothing," he admitted.

His daughter raised her eyebrows. "I'm surprised they didn't take it to court," she said.

He shook his head absently. "It was different times, sweetheart. I tried asking around for the officers who came to my house, but no one seemed to remember them. It made sense then because they said they were Special Force agents, but when I asked about the Special Force, no one knew what it was, either, not even the detectives." He took another sip of his tea, leaning back with a sigh. He was getting old, and that was depressing. He even had a few white hairs. The fuss he had made about that one was rather childish, he had to admit, but justified.

"Weird," summarized his girl.

"Yes, very. I just hope I didn't cause the poor girl on the other end of the line any trouble. She sounded very upset,"

His daughter nodded. "Maybe she had already forgotten about it," she suggested.

He shrugged, putting the cup back on the coffee table. "Well, now you know my story. Something to tell the kids, I always say."

"Yeah… no, but nice try, dad," She giggled.

He sighed. "So, no grandchildren anytime soon?" he asked in defeat.

"Keep dreaming, old man. I've got plans for the future," she defended.

"When I was your age, I was already a father," he pointed out.

She shook her head absently. "Different times, dad. Different times,"


	2. Make a Wish

_Gasp! A second chapter? By Yuval25? TWO chapters in a story?_

_Yes, you heard right. Saw right. Chapter 2 is up! Surprising, as I NEVER actually write a story with more than one chapter (and if I do, it's with great effort). But I did it. Maybe because there isn't actually a plot connecting the two chapters, and each stands individually, but it still counts. The reviews I've been getting from you wonderful readers make me so happy! I really appreciate all of the support and feedback! Please tell me what you think! Enjoy:)_

Summary: _**Walking down a crowded road with his father, Jeremy was beyond excited. Apparently, it was Cloak-Day!**_

**Make a Wish**

It was a very strange day, Jeremy thought to himself as he walked down a crowded road with his father, clutching his thick arm as they passed groups of people wearing cloaks and pointy hats. They all seemed happy, joyous, and Jeremy stared at them in wonder and curiosity. His father didn't look like he was all that sprightly, though, so Jeremy kept his excitement to himself. Well, as much as a young boy can.

"Dad, did you see that? Did you see what he did with the lights?" Jeremy asked enthusiastically, pointing at a tall man with a long beard, who made blue and yellow lights burst into the sky from a tiny wooden box he held in his hands.

Jeremy's father let out a snort, scowling, but didn't say anything in response.

A girl, about Jeremy's height, who looked old for some reason, caught Jeremy's hand and laughed in delight. "Muggles, alive! Walking through the streets without fear! What a merry day, indeed! Isn't it merry?" she asked cheerfully, her long (very, _very_ long) nose moving with the words.

Jeremy gaped at the girl, whose voice was deeper than any girl he knew, more like his mom's voice. "I, uh… i-is it?" he stammered in amazement. His father, who noticed the girl holding his wrist, tugged on Jeremy's shirt and started walking faster. The girl stumbled a bit but let them go, a confused expression lacing her aging features.

"Don't talk to those people, Jeremy, they're crazy," his father said hastily, striding past a chattering couple, who, Jeremy noticed, wore cloaks as well. Was it a cloak day? They didn't mention anything about a cloak-day at school.

As they sharply rounded a corner – Jeremy skipping a few steps to keep up with the fast pace – a fat person bumped against Jeremy's shoulder, quickly apologizing as he caught himself. "Forgive me, my boy, I didn't see you there." Then his eyes widened, almost bulging, and he grinned down at him, his gaze moving to catch Jeremy's as he was pulled away by his father. "It is most wonderful to see muggles out and celebrating on this happy, happy day! As they should, too-" Jeremy didn't hear what he said next, because they were already too far away from the man.

A few more people in cloaks and hats tried to approach Jeremy and his father on their way to Jeremy's Auntie Alice's flat, one of them being a boy who looked about Jeremy's age and wore a deep blue cloak with the hood raised and hanging from his ginger hair, who asked him if he was going to Hogwots too and if he thought they would get to see Harry Potter. Jeremy didn't know what or who Hogwots and Harry Potter were, but the way the boy said the names made Jeremy very intent to find out, even if it meant asking his older sister Sarah, who thought she knew everything. A woman had gone up to them, singing some sort of incomprehensible opera in high notes that made Jeremy's head hurt, and tried to kiss Jeremy's father, resulting in him making a scene and lecturing Jeremy about rape and forcing people to do things they didn't want to do after they managed to get away from the lady.

And, at last, they reached Auntie Alice's apartment and got in, Jeremy fairly calm and frankly a bit baffled, and his father panting and rolling his eyes repeatedly, in Jeremy's opinion slightly overdoing the gesture.

"You two look like you've just… I don't know – ran a marathon, seen a ghost, walked head-first into a hurricane. You-" Auntie Alice told them in an amused tone that was accompanied by an arched, single eyebrow, before Jeremy's father cut her off with a fierce glare. "I'll make tea," She hurriedly walked up the stairs leading to her flat, leaving the pair to sort themselves out.

Jeremy's father sighed and took Jeremy's coat and scarf, hanging them on a coat rack and copying the motion with his own long coat and hat. He turned and look at Jeremy in the eyes seriously, and then attempted to mat out his hair, which had gone wild during their frenzied walk. "If you ever see people like that again, stay away from them, yeah, Jeremy?" his father said, firmly but softly.

Jeremy nodded solemnly, and they both walked up the stairs. When they opened the door, a colorful sight met them. The flat was decorated with Christmas lights, despite it not actually being Christmas, which puzzled Jeremy greatly. There were balloons and candles and confetti which was already scattered around the floor. Jeremy winced mentally at the mess, knowing his mother would not approve.

Well, at least, that was what he thought until he saw his mother standing beside Auntie Alice with a big smile on her face, not looking upset in the least.

"Mom?" he asked hesitantly, not believing that this woman was the same one that yelled at his father for mudding the kitchen's floor.

His mother walked to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Happy birthday, dear," she whispered into his hair. She pulled back and kissed him wetly on the cheek, and he resisted the urge to wipe his cheek clean.

Oh. Right. His birthday. It was today. With all of the celebrations outside, he had forgotten it was his birthday today.

Jeremy smiled giddily as he was hugged by his father next, then Auntie Alice. His cheeks felt like they were going to tear from the force f his smile when the cake was brought out, twelve candles shining brightly on top of it. In swirly letters was a large 'Happy Birthday Jeremy!' with the number eleven written on the frosting.

"What did you wish for, love?" his mother asked him after he blew out the candles.

He gave her an excited grin. "A cloak!" he replied.


	3. Words to Look Up

_Slightly longer than the first two chapters. I see a pattern here. Maybe the next chaper would be longer than this one! So, applauses for the third chapter of 'Touching Magic'! (claps claps) (roses thrown) (tears of joy) (whistles)_

_Let me know if I go the American/British thing right. Not a lot of British things you would recognize, but I reckon there are some American things you might notice._

_I wanted to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last two chapters! You make my day! Enjoy:)_

Summary:**_ Jessica didn't know a lot about English culture, so it was not very surprising when she mistook one of the most well-guarded secrets in the world for a mere English slang._**

**Words to Look Up**

Jessica squealed as she passed a store that sold tea cups. _Tea cups! How English of them!_ It was her first time in England, but that was to be expected when one had a family of six. So when Jessica's high-school decided to host students from abroad in an exchange program, and the foreign school agreed to do the same, Jessica was the first to sign her name on the volunteers' sheet.

The girl whose house she was staying at while in London was nice, if not a bit tall. She had _the_ most amazing accent – which Jessica constantly tried to copy – and love tea, as Jessica found out. Jessica could not stop herself from squealing in excitement every time she saw something she recognized from an English movie or heard a British word.

Jessica didn't know a lot about English culture, her entire knowledge based on movies and books. It was not very surprising, then, that she mistook one of the most well-guarded secrets in the world for a mere English slang, when she heard two girls giggling in a partly-hidden section of a store. Jessica was waiting for her English friend to put on another dress and figured it was not eavesdropping if she wouldn't ever meet them again, anyway.

"… She works at The Three Broomsticks now. Pay's good, I've heard. Five Sickles an hour," said the dark-haired one, jealousy lacing her tone.

Jessica frowned. Sickles? Was that another name for a pound? Five pounds an hour was outrageous. Was The Three Broomsticks a governmental department?

"That'd make her a fortune!" the other girl exclaimed, her light blue eyes wide.

The first one nodded solemnly. "I'm happy for her. She has a child to support now. It's not going to be easy,"

"I still can't believe she kept the child. Wasn't it her dream to become a professional flyer?"

"Apparently, not anymore. I sent her an owl yesterday, you know, just to check up on her. She's the type to overwork herself to the point of exhaustion,"

"I know. Remember in sixth year when she worked herself sick studying for Potions?"

"How could I forget? I was the one who stayed in the Hospital Wing with her all week,"

The blue-eyed girl chuckled, and then caught herself as the dark-haired one glared at her.

Jessica was at loss. _Who sends a bird as a gift?_ It was not only the owl comment that confused her, but she still tried to make sense of some of the words. _Potions must be the British equivalent for chemistry class_, she reasoned, _and professional flyer had to be a pilot of some sort_.

When her English friend came out of the small cubical wearing a particularly ugly dress, and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts, Jessica just nodded when she asked if she looked pretty. _English people must see fashion differently_, she concluded.

As her friend paid for her purchases, Jessica tried to discretely listen to the two girls' conversation again.

"…so great. Dark skin, brown eyes you could spend hours just staring into. And he works with dragons!" the blue-eyed girl giggled quietly.

"Merlin," the other girl gasped.

"Like you wouldn't believe,"

"Did you…?"

"No, but I've made up my mind,"

"I knew there was a Slytherin hiding behind that Ravenclaw mind of yours,"

The blue-eyed girl grinned. "Our babies are going to be beautiful," she stated.

The dark-haired girl laughed.

Jessica decided it was no use to try and decipher the English slang, and turned away to her friend, who was waiting with a bagful of questionable dresses in her hands.

"Come on, Jess, let's go find you something cute!" her friend called, and Jessica shrugged and let herself be dragged to the next store.

At the end of the day, Jessica had two new shirts and one pair of pants (which, to her utter humiliation, she had discovered were called 'trousers' in England) to show for the tiring day of none-stop shopping, and a small notebook with 'words to look up' for when she got back home.

That night, not being able to sleep and staring at the ceiling of her friend's room, Jessica couldn't stand the silence anymore and spoke.

"Has anybody ever sent you an owl?" she asked.

Her friend stayed silent for a moment, before answering in bemusement, "No. Why would they?"

"I don't know,"

After a few more minutes Jessica's curiosity got the better of her.

"Do you study potions?"

Her friend sat up and looked down at her from her bed. "What's with you? Where did you hear that stuff?"

Jessica's cheeks warmed and she was glad it was dark in the room, so her friend couldn't see her blushing. "Just around," she said simply, burying herself further into the warm blanket.

She probably thought Jessica was stupid. Gosh, not even half into her stay and she already made a fool of herself.

"What else did you hear? Around?"

It was only because she sounded honestly curious that Jessica answered. "Merlin was mentioned," she confessed in embarrassment.

"I'll ask my friend Mike. Maybe it's new and I didn't notice it,"

Jessica nodded, but when she realized it was too dark to see her gesture it was too late to verbally answer.

"Who's Mike? You never mentioned him,"

Her friend's enthusiastic, unceasing chatter about her long-lasting crush on her childhood friend managed to lull Jessica to sleep in no time.

Jessica woke up slowly. The light coming from the window surprised her – these last few mornings she had been woken up by her friend while it was still dark outside. Her friend had claimed it to be a normal hour to get up, and Jessica had had been reluctant to believe that before she actually saw the time, which turned out to be the hour she usually got up at for school each morning back at home.

Blinking a few times to get used to the unexpected state of brightness in the room, Jessica slowly raised her disobedient body to a sitting position, and looked around. Her friend was absent, but it became fast obvious that she wasn't the only person in the room.

She scrambled to get up and managed to stumble over her blanket which was twisted around her ankle, but caught herself and stood facing the stranger who sat on her friend's bed motionlessly. She held her hands up in front of her body in an instinctively protective gesture, her stance tense and stiff.

"Who are you?" Now that she thought about it, the unfamiliar man sitting on the bed could have been a cousin or an uncle of her English friend. Though, that still didn't explain his presence in the room while she was sleeping. _Was it normal for a grown man to watch a sleeping girl he didn't know in England?_

The man smiled at her, but it didn't seem completely honest. It was more of a common curtsey than an actual smile. "My name holds but little value to a girl of your position,"

Jessica frowned. "Of my position?"

"It has come to our attention-"

"Our?" Jessica whispered in growing bemusement.

"-that you, Jessica Sullivan, have come across highly classified information yesterday afternoon. Two girls, I believe? One of them was fair-haired, with blue eyes, average height. The second was dark-haired, with dark brown eyes and three centimeters taller than the first. Sounds familiar?"

Jessica stuttered nonsense for a few moments before she managed a response, "Yes, sir,"

"Well, then. It is my responsibility to inform you that sharing that information with…" he opened a scroll of some ancient-looking paper. "Rose Harris, is a breaking of a very important law."

If Jessica was nervous before, now she was completely freaked out. "You're joking, right? Where are the cameras? Rose!" she exclaimed, frantically looking around for her English friend.

The man shook his head, the polite smile returning to his face. "I'm afraid this is no jest. It is great luck that the information did not fall into the wrong hands. I have come here to give you a warning, Jessica Sullivan. You are a smart girl. You have a very bright mind. You will not speak of what you have heard from the two girls I mentioned before if you want it to stay that way,"

Jessica was speechless. England was a very, _very_ strange place.

"There are no second chances in this business, Miss Sullivan. Make sure you understand that."

The man got up and dusted off his pants – _trousers_, she thought – and walked to the door. He was half-way through the doorway when he turned around with a serious expression.

"Your actions will be monitored closely until further notice. Take care,"

And he walked out, leaving a dumbfounded Jessica alone in the room.

Hurriedly, Jessica crossed off _'slytherin'_, _'ravenclaw'_ and _'sickles' _off her 'Words to Look Up' list.


End file.
